"Not a bit of him," said Hannah; "I don't believe he's dead. He was a fine, hearty, strong child, and nothing ever seemed to ail him. Oh, it rises up before me now what a beautiful picture he made when he stood in his little red velvet dress by your mamma's knee, and she so proud of him! There's no mistake, but he was the very light of her eyes. She took him up to London, and a nursemaid—not me, you may be quite sure—took him out. She went into a big shop, and the child was by her side. She kept him standing by her as she ordered some things across the counter, and, I suppose, she turned her head for a minute, for when she looked round again he was gone. From that day to this he was never heard of, though everything you can think of was done. Oh, my poor, poor mistress, what she did suffer!"
"Hannah, how excited you look!" said Primrose. "Why, you are all trembling. It is a terrible story, but as I say to Daisy about Mr. Dove, don't let us think of it."
"Right you are, honey," said Hannah; "what can't be cured, you know. If you don't mind, Miss Primrose, I'll just sit down for a minute. I'm not to say quite myself. Oh, it ain't nothing, dearie; just a bit of the trembles, and to prove to old Hannah that she is getting on in years. I nursed you all, darling—him, my beautiful boy, and you three. Miss Primrose, dear, how old would you say that Mr. Noel was. I didn't have a fair look at him until to-day, and he seems quite a young sort of man."
"Miss Egerton says that he is twenty-six, Hannah."
"Twenty-six," answered Hannah; "don't interrupt me for a minute, dear. I'm comparing dates—twenty-six—twenty-six. Law, goodness gracious me! You haven't never noticed, Miss Primrose, that he have a kind of a mole—long-shaped, and rather big, a little way up his left arm? Have you, now, dearies?"
"No, really, Hannah, I've never seen Mr. Noel's arm without his coat-sleeve. How very queerly you are speaking, Hannah."
"Not at all, dearie; it's only because I've got the trembles on me. Well, love, and so you don't want to be under no compliments to that Mrs. Ellsworthy, who never took no notice of your poor dear ma?"
Primrose sighed.
"I feel sore about it, Hannah," she said. "But I must try not to be too proud. I will ask God to help me to do what is really right in the matter."
"That's it, honey, and maybe you won't have to do it after all. I wonder, now, dear, if Mr. Noel is well off."